Over and Out

There's a strange kind of tiredness creeping into me. Whether i like it or not, I am shrouded by it. I'm tired of all the early mornings, of all the sun rises, of all the blazing noons, of all the sunsets, of all the cold nights. Tired of life.
There's too much to brood over, too little to smile about. There's too much to debate over, too little to agree upon. There's too much of darkness, too little light. Life's a bitch. Excuse my French.I'm sick of all the blames, of all the burden, of all the onus. My shoulders are drooping, they can't take anymore weight. My heart is heavy too.
I look at people around me. i see them empty. Full of sympathy. That's still empty. I look for The One. I can't find anyone. I live my life, it's full. Full of thoughts. Thoughts that grieve, thoughts that sob. Thoughts that give a heartache. Thoughts I hate.
I hate what I love.
I pretend. Pretend to smile, to look for joy. I find very little, or none at all. I gather the little. Store it in my house. I water it, but it just doesn't grow. It's planted in sand. It won't grow. It chokes me to death. I love the little joy, but it hates me. It denies me itself, it withers and wilts.
I wither and wilt along with it...